One True Thing
by bridgetlynn
Summary: After Regionals the spirit of Quinn's words finally resonate with Rachel forcing the girl to evaluate who she's turned into to survive high school. She's less surprised then she thinks she should be over who helps her find Rachel under the Diva.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** Glee is owned by Ryan Murphy, Ian Brennan, Brad Falchuk, 20th Century Fox Television and any production companies associated with said persons. This is written purely for entertainment and to alleviate my own immense boredom. I am gaining nothing financially from this; besides, as I've learned the difficult way that despite a college degree for it, writing is not an easy way to pay the bills.

**A/N:** As this is my first foray into Glee fic here are a few things you should know/expect. I decided to tackle this after spending far too much of my (lately unlimited) free time reading Glee fanfic. The plot bunnies attacked en masse and I had no choice but to surrender to their demands. I am an unapologetic Puckleberry fan and have been practically from the pilot (though I do try to avoid deviating from canon so it might take a while to get there with a natural build). I also think Finn's a tool and strongly believe that canon supports this theory if not looked at through Finchel colored glasses. I've also spent an embarrassing amount of time analyzing Rachel and what might be going on underneath her "mask" (keep in mind, we never really see into Rachel's head on the show. We just see a lot of Divatude). Once I took all of that into account, and added in those damn bunnies, the result was this fic.

**Spoilers:** Anything already aired (ie: 2x16 "Original Song") as this begins two weeks after Regionals and will deviate from canon from that point forward (don't really care what the writers throw at us starting in April for this story).

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><p><em>I could say that I'm alright<em>  
><em>I think that's what you want to hear<em>  
><em>But every-time I step out of this door<em>  
><em>I just want to reappear<em>  
><em>Somewhere else<em>  
><em>A place I made up in my head<em>  
><em>Before this world<em>  
><em>Started taking pieces away<em>  
><em>Taking pieces away<em>

_Just one breath that I can breathe_  
><em>Just one honest untouched scene<em>  
><em>Just one taste of rust to show the bars that cage are bending<em>  
><em>Just one melody that I can really sing<em>  
><em>After all you've taken, can you give me this<em>  
><em>One true thing.<em>  
><strong>- "One True Thing", Midwest Kings<br>**

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>The golden tint of the late afternoon light bouncing around the room, and turning her perfectly yellow bedroom a shade of near orange, was nothing that Rachel had never dealt with before; having the only west facing bedroom in the house had forced her to adjust to the glare almost three years earlier when her family had moved in. Which was why she was currently stomping down the urge to rip the crystal sun-catcher out of the ceiling every time it sent a flash of light her way.<p><p>

She couldn't blame her frustration on the sun anymore then she could blame it on the sky being blue or the grass being green. Though lately those had started to annoy her as well. She'd like to blame the itch under her skin on something mundane; but, Rachel had given up on lying (to herself) the moment she wrote "Get It Right" and she knew on exactly who this constant urge to scream to could blamed.

Quinn Fabray.

The blonde haired, blue eyed, outwardly perfect (former) cheerleader who was everything Rachel was not (both the good and the bad). The one girl, if Rachel was sticking with this internal honesty, that she wanted to beat at everything had forced the brunette to hear some hard facts two weeks earlier in front of a piano.

Rachel let out a hiss of exasperation, as the sun-catcher spun and she was forced to squint again, but didn't move from the sprawled position on her bed. Her eyes continued their examination of her bedroom; walls covered in posters from various Broadway shows, a guitar (she was pretty sure no one knew she could play) propped against the wall, piles of CDs, an entire book case just for sheet music, another one for real books, and, scattered throughout the minimal clutter, was Finn.

She snorted softly at the thought (since, of course, Finn himself was not there - neither in whole nor in pieces) as her eyes trailed over the pictures and trinkets she had accumulated since she (really and truly) met Finn at the beginning of sophomore year.

"Groundhog Day," she mumbled to herself as Quinn's words played back through her head once more. "I really wish she wasn't right," she added in a slightly clearer voice.

Rachel had spent the last week examining the other girl's words, Regional's had of course been too important to even remotely think about a boy (at least not beyond allowing the situation to be the focus of a song), and didn't like the conclusions she had drawn from them.

Mainly because they made her realize just how ugly she had become over the past three years; how ugly they had all become. Because if beauty was only skin deep, then she and her, sort of, friends had become some severely unattractive people. Between the lying, the cheating and the words whose intentions were solely to cause pain, the Glee club were no better then their detractors; maybe even worse because they were supposed to be protecting each other from those very things.

In the last week Rachel had realized that since she had started at McKinley she had turned into a caricature of herself and as much as she wanted to blame it solely on her surroundings - bullies, the pressure of classes, slightly absentee (and yet, entirely too involved) parents - she knew she couldn't. Somehow in her yearning to fit in (and maybe stand out just a little bit - that honesty thing again) with classmates who had known each other since they were children she had turned herself into someone to be ostracized and mocked.

And she knew she really had done it _to herself_ because before moving to Lima Rachel had friends. Real friends, one of whom still called her at least once a month to talk and catch up.

"Santana would die of shock," Rachel pointed out to her empty bedroom. "The Midget Freak has people who actually like her. Or maybe it's liked?"

The petite brunette frowned as she contemplated the changes that had overcome her personality and what the people she had once called friends on Long Island would think of her since moving to Ohio. In three years she had gone from a fairly relaxed thirteen year old (whose life did not only revolve around the stage) to a sixteen year old so terrified that she'd fade into the woodwork that she became unhealthily, and unfairly, focused on being the sole owner of the literal (and proverbial) spotlight.

Her eyes trailed the room again and her frown deepened, only lightening a bit when she allowed herself the concession of a bit of culture shock playing a small role in the transformation.

"After all, I can't be blamed on feeling the need to enlighten my mid-west companions on the importance of the theatre. Kids on Long Island just...get it," she muttered before giving into the honesty bug that had been digging at her. "Fuck, nevermind. I should have shut up about it. It's not like they actually cow tip for fun around here," she added, remembering some of the horror stories her friends from back east had put in her head when she announced a move to Ohio of all places.

It was this finally acknowledgment (and the fact that her frustration had forced her into using profanity) that forced Rachel to finally do what she had been contemplating for the last week. Reaching to her night table the brunette grabbed her cell phone and scrolled through her contacts quickly before hitting send and subconsciously praying that her target didn't send her call to voice mail.

"Yea?"

Rachel rolled her eyes at the greeting and answered, "Are you busy Finn?"

"Why?"

Frowning at the annoyance in her ex's tone Rachel took a deep breath and plunged head first into the reason for her phone call, "I think we need to talk."

"I'm with Quinn Rachel. We aren't getting back together."

"I know that," she replied, ignoring the twinge of jealousy his words sparked. "But we haven't really hashed a few things out and now that Regional's are done and over with I think it's time," she continued her explanation before waiting for a reply. When none came from the other end of the phone she found herself rolling her eyes once more and throwing out something the competitor in him wouldn't be able to ignore, "Besides, do you really want all this to be hanging over our heads as we prepare for Nationals?"

That question got a quiet sigh and a mumbled, "Not really."

"Good," Rachel whispered, breathing a sigh of relief. "Want to meet me for coffee at Starbucks on Main? Say, half hour?"

"I can do that," Finn finally agreed, after mumbling to someone with a high female voice off the line.

"Tell Quinn I'm not trying to steal you back or anything," Rachel added into the receiver, taking a chance on whom he was probably talking to. "I really do just want to talk."

"Yea, she said 'whatever.' I'll see you in a half hour," he responded before hanging up without a good-bye.

"Prick," Rachel muttered and tossed her phone on the bed beside her.

Rachel lay on her bed for a few more minutes before getting up and grabbing one of her stuffed animals and asked it, "I wonder what thirteen year old me would say if she could see me now. You don't wanna tell me huh? That's okay, it doesn't matter now anyway, because I am no longer in love with Finn Hudson."

The last thought she had before leaving her room and heading to Starbucks? So much for that whole honesty thing.  
><p>

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><strong>AN 2:** I hope this doesn't strike anyone as being OOC for Rachel. Truth is, Rachel is one of the few people we never really see the internal thoughts of. We never really see her home life. We never hear about any friends she's since she was a kid (I've decided to let this mean that she transferred when they started HS). And being that Rachel reminds me a bit of myself (though God knows I was never quite as intense as she can be) I imagine there may be some deeper thoughts floating around in that head of hers (as well as a lot of the other characters). Therefore, I've taken my little observations and run with them.

My writing also tends to lend itself to a darker tone in general, the world (sorry Brittney S. Pierce and show writers) isn't all sunshine and rainbows and I refuse to pretend that it is. Hopefully you, as readers, will be able to enjoy it.

That being said, reviews not only make me happy (and usually force me to kick real life in the ass so I can write more) they let me know where I should be expanding things (or not expanding if that be the case) in the plot. So please, feed the writer.


	2. Chapter One

**Disclaimer:** See Prologue.

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><p>Rachel walked into the Starbucks that she had asked Finn to meet her at and breathed a sigh of relief as she examined the crowd and realized she didn't know anyone in the cafe. It had seemed like a safer locale for the conversation she needed to have with him then the more popular (at least amongst her peers) Lima Bean across town and she was very pleased to be proven correct.<p>

The last thing Rachel wanted or needed was the potential scene (knowing Finn) being spread around McKinley.

She quickly ordered a coffee and took a seat in the corner to wait for her ex-boyfriend and organize her thoughts on how to approach said conversation. When it was ten minutes past the time they had agreed upon, and Rachel had finally chosen words that were less then five syllables, she heard the bell over the door and watched as the tall quarterback walked in. Waving quickly to get his attention she groaned as he didn't even bother putting in a drink order and instead just crossed the room and sat down in front of her.

"Good afternoon Finn," Rachel began politely, after waiting a moment for any form of greeting.

"Hey Rach," he replied, shooting her a small smile that still sent butterflies rolling in her stomach. "So, what'd you wanna talk about?"

"You don't want a coffee or anything?"

"Nope, I'm good. Just wanna get this over with."

"Right, okay," she stalled slightly, frowning in concentration as the carefully worded speech about commitment and personal growth flew out of her head. She took the time to study his expression and recognized it for what it was - vacant and disinterested in whatever she might be about to say. Finally, allowing her exasperation for the familiar look on his face to wash over her, she just asked, "Did you ever actually like me? I mean, at all?"

"Course I did. I loved you. Till you cheated on me and broke my heart," he responded in a matter of fact tone as an actual pout crossed his face.

"Oh, well, since you brought that up, that reminds me, I've been very rude. How's Quinn?" she shot back in annoyance, even as she reminded herself to be civil.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Rachel blinked at the question and studied him again, almost laughing at the honest confusion on his face. She exhaled slowly and curbed the growing mix of aggravation and amusement, shaking her head slightly and answered, "It means that Quinn _slept with_ Noah and cheated on you and then lied about it. Or am I the only one who remembers last year at all?"

"She's different now," was Finn's immediate, almost Pavlovian, response.

"Yea...you might wanna ask Sam about that one," she responded, allowing the slightest hint of sarcasm to enter her voice all the while maintaining an innocent expression. The wide eyed look she received from her ex once again had her near laughter as she finally realized that he honestly did not understand what was wrong with his actions. Apparently, everyone else was always wrong...unless Finn Hudson decided they weren't.

"Sam's wrong for Quinn," Finn finally replied slowly, as though convincing himself.

"Oh you're certainly right about that," Rachel agreed quickly, siding with the blonde male in the newest whatever geometric patterned love affair that was occurring. She was certain the Glee club had to have at least reached a hexagon by this point.

"Yup."

"Wow," Rachel whispered softly under her breath. She waited a beat and then continued in a normal tone, "Quinn's right. I live in a school girl fantasy. I was so caught up in who I thought I should be and how my life was supposed to go that I didn't ever let myself be me. I built you up in my head as this perfect boyfriend when the truth of it is, you aren't even a very good friend."

"Hey, you cheated on me," he replied, once again much to Rachel's amusement (and annoyance) focusing on someone else's wrongs rather then his own.

"Yes, I did...and then I told you the _truth_. But you _lied_ to me," Rachel held up her hand to stall Finn's protest. "And I don't just mean about Santana; 'cause no matter what you want to believe, I don't care that you slept with her. I care that you outright lied about it. You also strung me along for months while you were still with Quinn. You basically played both of us; and, yes, she cheated on you, the baby was Puck's, etcetera, etcetera. But you didn't know that at the time."

"You went along with it!"

Rachel rolled her eyes at the indignant response and carefully formulated her reply, "I'm not saying I was right, but I am saying you were wrong. Something you seem unable to comprehend. Either way, I hope you're better to each other this time around...though I highly doubt that'll be the case."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Rachel chuckled at the obvious cluelessness of the boy in front of her as she replied, "Well, Quinn obviously felt a reason to cheat on you in the first place didn't she? You should probably avoid making eyes at any naive underclassmen for the foreseeable future."

She waited for any reaction and only received that once again confused expression.

"Or don't avoid it," she added with a shrug. "Maybe that situation works for the two of you; after all, you both seem to have your own little case of...how did Quinn put it? Ah yes, groundhog day. You two deserve each other and everything that goes along with it."

Finn furrowed his brow and Rachel waited as it seemed for the first time she might have gotten through to him. After he had opened his mouth and shut it a few times she drummed her fingernails on the tabletop and smirked when he jumped slightly.

"You," he started and then frowned deeper, shaking his head. "I mean, I guess...I love her you know?"

"Sure Finn," Rachel agreed quickly ignoring the stab of pain at his words. "I know. I'm sure she loves you too. After all, you're the quarterback. But then again, so was Sam. And I bet you'll look great with a shiny new crown on your head at the end of the year."

"I don't care about any of that Rachel," Finn insisted. "Quinn and I were together for a long time until Puck fucked it all up."

"Yes," Rachel agreed again. "It was _all_ Noah of course," she added sarcastically. "Quinn wasn't there _at all_. She's her own personal immaculate conception, though considering the story she fed you about the hot tub I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"She made a mistake," Finn insisted as he flushed in embarrassment over his own gullibility.

"Well, so did I. Does that mean that next year I should pencil you in to date me again?"

"Really?" Finn asked with a look in his eyes that on anyone else would be contemplative. "You think that'd work out? 'Cause ya know, I really did like you til you kissed Puck."

"No Finn. Not really."

"But you love me."

"Yes, I do. Unfortunately the heart wants what the heart wants. The good thing is that given enough time and apparent exposure to you without any rose colored glasses I'll be able to convince my heart to take a proverbial antacid."

"Huh?"

"Nevermind," she muttered. "So, you were saying how much you love Quinn but don't care about any of the shiny happy power-couple popularity garnering bonus' that dating her come along with?"

"Uhhhh," Finn began to reply and tilted his head slightly. "No?" Rachel had to immediately squash the urge to pat him on the head like a puppy and took a long sip of her coffee to hide her smirk. "I mean, no I don't. I love her. Like, a whole lot."

"Well then I'm really truly happy for you Finn. Like I said, you deserve each other."

"Why do you keep saying that in that tone that I think means you're being mean about it?"

"Cause I am," she responded bluntly. "I'm pissed off. What did you expect? Did you think I'd be throwing you a party for getting back together with the girl who loved you just oh so much that she got herself knocked up after a few wine coolers? Did you think I'd be happy that you could forgive her for that but you couldn't forgive me for kissing someone once? Did you think I'd be thrilled that you could be such a hypocrite as to do to someone, who has never been anything but nice to you no less, the exact same thing that you're willing to condemn me for? Sorry Finn, but I'm a little more realistic then you are apparently."

"But...you love me!"

"Doesn't mean I'm not fucking livid!" she snapped back loudly, wincing at her own word choice. "You know what, this is getting ridiculous," she continued, lowering her voice again. "I do love you Finn. I'll probably always _love_ you just a little bit, but I'm starting to very quickly not _like_ you at all. I hope you're both very happy and if she breaks your heart...again...please do not come crying to me."

"I wouldn't do that."

"Yes you would Finn. Sadly, history tends to repeat itself with you, with all of us actually, and the second Quinn does something that you don't like you'll be whining after me about it and trying to sweep everything that's happened under the rug. Also, if you could refrain from being pissed off if and when I start dating someone again I'd be greatly appreciative."

"Ummm..."

"That means I'd be very happy."

"Right, knew that," he whispered looking a little ill. "Wait, are you dating anyone?"

"Not currently. I'm trying to move on from being a serial monogamist. I'm going to have a bit of Rachel-time. I told you that weeks ago."

"Good. I mean, sorry? Ya know what, I don't know what I mean."

Rachel chuckled dryly at the statement and smiled sadly as he once again looked lost. She continued to study him and almost prayed that she'd get over him completely quicker then it seemed to be happening because she refused to allow the rest of her junior year to play out the way the entirety of her sophomore year had gone.

"Don't worry about it Finn. I'm sure things with Quinn will work out wonderfully. After all, you both have the same goals and aspirations."

"We do?" he questioned, once again sending Rachel's eyes rolling as she realized that as fast as Quinn was to lay out Finn's future for Rachel, she hadn't been quite as quick to explain it to the boy in question.

"Sure you do. I think I'm finally starting to realize that. Actually, I wanted to ask you one more thing and I need you to answer it completely honestly."

"Okay?"

"If we had stayed together...where did you see us in, say, five or six years?"

"If we had stayed together?"

"Yes, a hypothetical if you will."

Finn sighed and seemed to study his hands for a moment before looking up at her almost bashfully, "I really did have plans for us Rachel."

"Okay, then what were they?" she prodded him as she honestly wasn't entirely certain what his answer would be anymore. A few months ago she was almost positive she knew what he'd say and now she was starting to realize she didn't know him quite as well as she thought.

"Okay, I figured we'd be married, or at least engaged," he began and Rachel started to let herself relax, because that certainly matched what she expected. It wasn't until he continued that she realized how wrong she was. "We'd get a house in Lima. You'd probably be teaching music at the high school since I figured you'd be great to help direct Glee club and I'd either be working with Burt or maybe coaching or something like that. Guess that'll depend on if I go to college or not," he answered, a soft smile lighting up his face as he missed the nausea crossing Rachel's.

"Here...in_ Lima_?"

"Course, where else?"

"What about New York? Broadway? My...my dreams?" she questioned in shock.

"Oh come on Rach," Finn responded, laughing heartily. "Do you really think that's gonna happen? I mean, what are the odds really?"

She blinked as his amusement didn't seem to fade, rather changed into a fondly exasperated expression and prodded her own growing fury at his dismissal. She thought about telling him how she had expected they'd go to New York together. She thought about pointing out that she never expected him to go onto Broadway with her or even do anything related to music. She thought about shrieking how some vague semblance of support would be nice, even just as a friend. Then she decided not to waste her breath and instead laid out her own (apparently solo) plans as clearly as possible.

"The odds are very high Finn, despite my own touting of my abilities I do recognize this. I also recognize my talent and my ambition. It may take longer then I'd readily like to admit, but it will happen. I will go to college for musical theatre, if not in New York then at least at a school with a prestigious program where I will graduate with honors, I will then move to New York if I am not already there. I will go about getting a job to pay my bills before getting an agent. I will attend any castings available and yes, most probably start my way up from chorus parts. But I will make it on Broadway." When all Finn did was stare at her in surprise, as though he didn't expect her to have a backbone anywhere in her body, Rachel added with a snap as she stood up to leave, "Have fun enjoying mediocrity."

She quickly executed a picture perfect, stereotypical, Rachel Berry storm out and walked as fast as possible towards her car. It wasn't until she was sitting behind the wheel that she allowed herself to relax back into the seat and breathe normally, whispering quietly to the empty vehicle, "Well, that was interesting. Not quite what I expected, or planned, but interesting."

Turning the key in the ignition she started her car and began the drive home towards her empty house, quite grateful that both her fathers were once again on business trips, forcing herself to begin what she knew would be a long and mentally exhausting process of fully purging the _idea_ of "Finn Hudson" from her life.

It was time to face the facts, based on that conversation not only was Finn not her prince, but she was pretty certain there wasn't going to be a "prince" in her life ever. Mainly because she was finally starting to accept the fact that she wasn't actually a princess. She was just Rachel and as she pulled into her driveway and looked up at her house she realized she was actually okay with that.

Now she just had to let everyone else see Rachel as well.

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><p><strong>AN:** So, there you have it...now the story can really get cooking. Rachel needed to have reality laid out bare for her by Quinn, so that she could finally see through Finn's shiny-happy veneer to the ridiculous teenage boy whose reasoning for being obsessed with his high school popularity is that he doesn't expect much else in life once he graduates. Now she can grow and mature. The Gleeks will begin to arrive in the next chapter once the weekend's over and we're back at school. Also, expect the beginnings of a new Rachel and the start of a surprising new friendship.  
>And remember, please feed your friendly neighborhood writer.<p> 


	3. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer:** See Prologue.

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><p>Monday morning came much quicker then Rachel wanted it to and despite attempts to the opposite her entire morning workout and shower found her replaying Saturday afternoon's conversation with Finn over in her mind. It wasn't until she had dressed for the day and was staring at herself in the mirror that she finally stopped it with a verbal slap, "New day, new attitude Rachel. And wow did I miss jeans."<p>

Smirking at her reflection she double checked that she looked alright in the skinny jeans, lavender short sleeved sweater and black heels she had selected, mentally picturing the expressions she was sure would be present on the faces of her peers when they saw her.

"New day, new attitude," she repeated slowly. "New _positive_ attitude. I will _not_ be slushied. I _can_ wear nice clothes," she added for her own benefit. The outfits everyone seemed to despise had originally been born out of necessity; the lack of slushies over the last few weeks combined with her decision to reclaim a slightly less intense Rachel had made her decide to break out the clothing she wore when not in school. "Though, I still don't see what was wrong with them," she muttered, tugging lightly on the hem of her unpatterned sweater. "I guess the animal prints were a bit much," she added with a chuckle.

Rachel actually liked the way she normally dressed, with a few exceptions (and it was just easier to stomach ruining the ugly sweater's her grandmothers insisted on sending her, rather then destroying the nicer tops that tended to live in her closet the rest of the time).

"New day, new attitude," she repeated for what felt like the millionth time since she had woken up. "Move it Berry," she added before grabbing the messenger bag she had bought the day before to use for her books (despite knowing the risk she was taking by not bringing her rolling bag and it's entire change of clothing - that bag she could admit to despising right along with everyone else).

Before she could change her mind, about her outfit or the decision to not bring a change of clothes, Rachel left the house and jumped into her car for the quick ride over to McKinley. She still arrived much earlier then she needed, but also didn't think being punctual and organized were necessarily things she needed to adjust. If anything, her being organized and on time made her more relaxed and easier for everyone else to deal with. Rachel recognized her short-comings well enough to know that her peers would never be able to tolerate a truly frantic Rachel Berry.

It was what she overheard after she left her locker and headed for the choir room to kill time before classes started that made her doubt her previous opinion and had her wishing that she was the type of person to dash in the last second before the bell.

Rachel was frozen to the side of the choir room door, terrified to move for the risk of making a sound and interrupting the two girls inside; yet she desperately did not want to know any of the information that she was essentially being unknowingly handed. Because standing in the middle of the room was a sobbing Santana Lopez and a slightly irritated looking Brittany Pierce.

And Rachel knew irritated was not an expression Brittany wore lightly, it took a lot to push the bubbly blonde into any emotions beyond happiness or confusion.

"I just don't understand," Santana continued, her words muffled behind her hands, looking more upset then Rachel was certain she had ever seen the beautiful girl. "You say you love me, but you can't break up with Artie."

"I told you San. I love him too and I can't hurt him like that."

"Well, do you love him more?"

"No...just, like, different," Brittany answered, shrugging and leaving Rachel wide eyed in shock still in her hiding place. "But like I said, if Artie and I ever do break up, I'll totally date you."

"Britt, I'm willing to throw myself out there for you. Risk everything, just be with me."

"I can't hurt Artie!" Brittany finally snapped, shocking Rachel even more as the girl actually surpassed irritated and bordered on angry. "He's done a lot for me Santana."

"Like what?"

"Well, first of all, he doesn't treat me like an idiot like everyone else. Something you know I'm not...at least not totally."

"Oh my God. Yes he does. Magic comb?"

"That was different," Brittany replied quietly. "You haven't exactly been nice to me all the time either you know."

"I know that! And I'm sorry. But, God Britt, we've technically been together for years."

Brittany shrugged, "And I'm with Artie now."

"That didn't stop you from hooking up with me while you were with him. How is that not potentially hurting him?"

"He didn't know about it...and I'm not doing it anymore. I'm sorry San."

"Yea whatever," Santana snapped. "Don't expect me to be sitting around waiting, ya know, if you ever break up with Artie," she added before storming out the door, thankfully not the one that Rachel was near. The short brunette watched as the tall blonde simply shook her head and sat down on one of the chairs, resting her chin in her hand.

"Hi Rachel," she suddenly spoke, pulling a squeak from the hiding girl. "You can come in now. Thanks for hiding before."

"How'd you know I was here?"

"You know I'm not as dumb as everyone thinks I am. Just ditzy."

"Yea," Rachel replied quietly as she walked into the room. "Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine. She just doesn't get it."

Rachel nodded slowly, taking a seat on the piano bench, "Do you love her?"

"Yea, she's my best friend and I liked the sweet lady kisses and that whole deal. But I really like Artie right now."

"Right now?" Rachel prodded, wondering to herself why of all people she was actually trying to help Santana.

"Yea," Brittany nodded and looked at Rachel with a small smile. "San's kinda like my penguin. But I'm not ready for my penguin yet."

Rachel cocked an eyebrow in question at the blonde, "Your penguin?"

"Yea, penguin's are forever."

"I know that," Rachel responded nodding. "You don't have to be scared Brittany. If that's why you're staying with Artie. We wouldn't let anything happen to you."

"No, I'm not scared of that," the blonde assured Rachel. "Everyone knows that the assholes on the football team would think me and San were like, hot together or something. I'm scared that Santana's not ready to be a penguin."

"Oh," Rachel breathed out. "I guess I can kinda understand that."

A few minutes of silence passed between the two girls as they listened to students trickling into the hallway outside before it was broken by the taller of the two, "Hey Rachel?"

"Yea Britt?"

"Can you like...keep an eye out for her? She's kinda mad at me."

Rachel snorted and coughed to cover her laughter, "I am the last person Santana wants keeping an eye on her Britt. She wouldn't appreciate it in the slightest."

"Yea she will," Brittany replied quietly. "We were supposed to be best friends."

"You and Santana are best friends Britt. This won't change that."

"No," Brittany responded quickly, shaking her head furiously. "You, me and San. I told her we were. Quinn messed it all up though."

"Alright, I am not ashamed to admit that you just _completely_ lost me."

"You and me were friends summer before Freshmen year when you moved here. Remember? Cause of dance."

"Of course I remember that," Rachel assured her; in fact, losing Brittany's friendship had hurt more then a lot of the things that had happened since. She'd never blamed the naive girl for it; had in fact blamed her darker haired friend.

"Well, I told San that you were super cool and nice and such a good dancer. And she said that we could all try out for Cheerio's together. San was actually really excited 'cause she said that I had taken...umm...what's that word, when you do something first and it's like kind of important?"

"Initiative?"

"That's it. She said it was important for girls who were gonna be head bitches to do that."

Rachel rolled her eyes slightly at the expression but also allowed herself to nod slightly in agreement, because as crude as the statement was, it certainly wasn't false.

"But yea, San said it was cool that I wanted you to hang out with us and be friends. Then Quinn found out and said some mean stuff about your Dad's and San got mad at her for it. And then Quinn tripped Puck on the first day of school."

The explanation had Rachel blinking curiously as she tried to use Brittany logic to see how all of that slotted together. It was the reference to Noah and the first day of Freshman year that made her realize exactly what the blonde was referring to. In other words, Rachel was fairly certain she finally had an explanation for the the first slushie she had ever received.

"Quinn tripped Noah?"

"Uh-huh," Brittany nodded quickly. "Puck thought you were cute. Said he'd seen you at Temple over the summer. He was gonna go say hi, but Quinn tripped him and you got slushied. I kinda think it all snowballed from there."

"So, what? He suddenly thought it was a good idea to keep tossing them at me?" she questioned incredulously, because reasonable explanation for the first slushie or not, that didn't explain anything after that.

"Well, I mean, you kind of just started yelling at him Rach. You didn't even let him apologize," Brittany pointed out, causing Rachel to blush darkly as she remembered the scene. "But, I sort of always thought he kept it up 'cause he still thought you were cute even with the scary yelling and arm waving. I mean, he used to pull Santana's hair and like throw paper at her in middle school and she can be really scary too."

"That was startlingly insightful Brittany."

"Thank you?"

"It's a good thing. Trust me," Rachel assured her and then frowned. "So, why...I mean, you and Santana, why'd you start being mean to me? Was it cause I yelled at Noah too?"

"No, San actually thought _that_ was kinda funny," Brittany replied quietly, blushing slightly. "But then like, by a few days later, you started dressing funny and talking all fast and smarter then everyone and you yelled and stomped a lot and San told me I must have been wrong about you being really sweet and fun. And we couldn't be friends with you 'cause you were weird."

Rachel's eyes darkened as she was once again pointed directly at something that she had essentially done to shoot herself in the proverbial foot. She had been so quick to jump at people for an accident without waiting for an explanation. She had been so aggravated with having to move halfway across the country from her chance to go to LaGuardia High School for the Performing Arts that her first day at McKinley had started off with an argument between her and her fathers. That slushy of Noah's had been a mild breaking point for Rachel.

Though, she supposed she could, in theory, blame Quinn. It was that thought that gave her pause because she still had no clue why Quinn Fabray seemed to hate her. The blonde could say all she wanted about how it was over Finn but Rachel hadn't even really noticed the tall boy until he sang in Glee.

"Wait, why'd Quinn trip Noah? It couldn't have just been about my fathers."

"Oh no, that one's super easy."

"Well?"

"Puck thought you were cute."

"Quinn didn't like Noah," Rachel stated bluntly.

"Duh," Brittany repeated. "Just 'cause she didn't like him, didn't mean she didn't like him liking her. I'm pretty sure Finn's the only person who didn't know Puck had a crush on Quinn."

"Yea well, Finn's a moron."

"Yay!" Brittany squealed so suddenly and high pitched that Rachel was pretty certain semi-logical Brittany, who Rachel had only been exposed to a few times the summer before Freshman year, was gone again.

"Yay?"

"I don't like you when you're with him. You haven't been my Rachel in a long time, but you're even less my Rachel when you're with Finn."

"Again with the insight," Rachel mumbled, smiling slightly and then jumping as the bell rang.

"Shoot, I gotta go," Brittany grumbled, pouting slightly. "I was supposed to meet Artie before class," she added before running out the door leaving the brunette sitting in contemplation on the piano bench. "Oh, Rachel?" Brittany added, sticking her head back in the room quickly. "Santana?"

"Yea, Britt. I promise. I'll...do...something I guess."

"Thanks Rach!" the blonde squealed before running down the hall.

"Out of the mouths of babes," Rachel whispered, shaking her head and leaving the room to head to her first period. Whoever thought that Brittany S. Pierce, someone Rachel once thought would hold the status of Ohio-Best-Friend, would ever be the catalyst for a long time needed explanation of the last two and a half years of her life.

* * *

><p>Rachel spent the rest of the day going through her classes, chatting with glee club members in between classes, jokingly asking Mercedes if she needed smelling salts when she saw her at lunch based on the other diva's reaction to Rachel's jeans and generally trying to avoid a certain Santana Lopez until the last possible second.<p>

However, by the time sixth period rolled around, fortunately the only class Rachel had with Santana, she still had no idea what she was going to do or say in order to keep an eye on Santana for Brittany. Especially in such a way that would not result in potential bodily harm for herself.

Rachel shuffled into the classroom and glanced around before taking a deep breath and cautiously approached the desk towards the back the Latina was sitting in. Santana looked completely put together, but there was something missing in her bearing and Rachel, at that moment, knew why Brittany had asked Rachel to keep an eye out. Going back to her own honesty kick, Rachel knew she had been noticing this about the other girl for a few weeks now, she just hadn't remotely cared before this morning.

The surprised, but not overtly hostile, look she received when she sat down next to the taller female was mildly encouraging, but only just so. Rachel killed a few seconds by pulling out her English textbook, a notebook and a pen - all the while praying that her teacher actually be on time for once so she wouldn't have to say anything to her fellow Gleek.

"Psst, midget?"

And then Santana shot her staying silent plan right out of the water.

"Yes Santana?"

"Don't you usually sit up front?"

"I didn't feel like it today," Rachel admitted, telling the truth. "I've kind of got a lot on my mind and I didn't want to draw attention to myself."

"Well, moving your seat does sort of the opposite," Santana scoffed and rolled her eyes, scribbling in her own notebook. "Besides, I thought you had to be right up front so that the teacher would notice you and you could answer every single question and receive the best grades."

"You maintain a very high average from back here, I thought I'd try it your way for once."

Santana chuckled quietly and shook her head, "I wouldn't."

The reply surprised Rachel so much that without even thinking of what type of reaction she'd get she asked the only question she could think of, "Santana? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," the ex-cheerleader replied far too quickly. "Why'd you ask?"

"I was just wondering. You're almost being civil," Rachel responded with the most logical reason she could think of, not wanting to reveal what she knew of the other girl's situation.

"We're in class Berry," Santana pointed out. "You aren't the only one who gives a shit about their grades. Have I ever really truly bothered you inside of a classroom when it counted?"

Rachel thought for a second and realized the other girl was telling the truth, "No, you haven't."

"Well, there you have it. Now stop talking to me."

"Right, sorry," Rachel muttered and flipped open her book as their teacher walked in and called out a page number.

The rest of the class passed painfully slow and Rachel, not for the first time that year, made a mental note to do everything in her power not to wind up with the same English teacher next fall. When the bell finally rang and everyone began packing up their books before proceeding to the final period of the day Rachel took what she knew was a very risky chance and spoke to Santana once more.

"Santana...umm, if you ever want to talk about anything I'll listen. I noticed you've been sort of, well, off kilter, for a few weeks now. I know we aren't friends, or even remotely friendly, but maybe that'll help. An outside opinion that you don't necessarily care about. I know I can be loud and abrasive, but I'm also a very good sounding board when I need to be. That's all I wanted to say. I'll see you tomorrow."

She stood to go and was frozen when the other girl grabbed her wrist, turning she met a confused pair of brown eyes studying her and waited with baited breath for the potential explosion. What she got surprised her more then anything else that had happened that day.

"That wouldn't suck," Santana admitted quietly and then shrugged as she stood up as well. "Anyway I've got History next...so I'm gonna go. But, I guess thanks or something. For noticing."

Rachel simply nodded and made her way out of the room with the rest of the students, not even daring to look back lest she potentially break what could have been the beginnings of a very necessary truce. She wasn't going to hold her breath and wait for Santana to come talk to her about any of her problems; but she had done what she told Brittany she would do. She had kept an eye out and offered an ear.

"New day, new attitude," Rachel mumbled softly under her breath once more and began making her way towards her Math class around the corner, mentally counting down the minutes until she could head home, relax and forget about the rest of the world for a while.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** First of all, thank you to everyone who took the time to comment on the story. It's greatly appreciated.

I pointed out at the beginning of the story that I like to develop things organically, so I hope no one expected for Rachel and Santana to suddenly just click their heels three times and fall into bestie-love or something. And the Brittany thing, that girl is a frightening clone of my best friend. She's the biggest DITZ on the face of the earth (except when she'd gets hit by these crazy bolts of logic), and yet, graduated 4th in our class in high school. Ditzy does not mean stupid. I used Britt's background in dance and Rachel's ambition to fill in a little more background for Rachel in this story. Hopefully it helped and everyone enjoyed it.

**Next time:** Puck has finally decided to come out of hiding. Glee practice, which means allll the gleeks will be present. And Santana calls out Rachel on some stuff.


	4. Chapter Three

**Disclaimer: **See Prologue.

* * *

><p>The next day proceeded incredibly uneventfully, once again finding Rachel in jeans (though she had conceded to her personal tastes this time by pairing them with a blouse and cardigan), and by the five minute break between fifth and sixth period she was more then ready for the day to be over. She was so bored that not even the thought of what could possibly happen in her next class, with Santana, could dredge up a hint of anxiety.<p>

It was while she was searching through her locker for her English notebook that the first break in the days monotony found her unexpectedly.

"Berry."

Rachel pulled her head out of her locker and turned to face the figure that had seemingly appeared at her shoulder as he leaned against the lockers. Frowning slightly she glanced up and down the hallway in confusion before responding, "Hello Noah. What can I help you with?"

"Nothing."

"And yet here you stand," she replied lightly, laughing when he just shrugged. "Seriously Noah. What's up? Don't you have a class or something to go to?"

"Yea, right there," he responded, pointing at a door across the hall and down a few feet. "I'll be on time. Don't worry your hot little Jew self."

"I'll try not to," she informed him dryly before going back to sorting through her books with a mounting frustration, figuring if he just wanted to stand there and he really didn't have anything to ask her then she didn't have to entertain him. It wasn't until she had finally located her notebook and closed her locker that she realized her, sort of, friend was not only still standing there but he was studying her. Rachel blinked and studied him right back in an attempt to figure out why he was staring at her. Her perusal revealed what she expected - mohawk, green eyes, letterman jacket, t-shirt, jeans, sneakers - every piece of his Puck persona right in place. And she still had no clue, for no lack of racking her own brain, why he himself was staring.

"What? I'm fairly certain I have nothing on my face," she snapped before pausing. "I don't, do I?" she asked, bringing her hand up to brush carefully at her nose.

"What's with the clothes?" he finally asked gesturing up and down her body.

Rachel's eyes furrowed in confusion for a moment before she glanced down and shrugged, "I do own jeans you know."

"I figured. Since you're human and all. You've just never worn them to school."

"Sure I have."

"Glee stuff doesn't count."

"Oh, well, I used to wear stuff like this...then, apparently, you tripped," she explained, figuring a half-assed explanation was all he really needed. Somehow she didn't expect the boy who responded to her various monologues with "totally interesting" would really care about, or actually want to know, any reasoning she had for changing her wardrobe (she was more perceptive then people really thought).

"Huh?" he began before pausing and chuckling. "Oh yea. Was wondering why you suddenly busted out the animal sweaters."

Rachel tilted her head and met her smirking companions eyes before asking, "You know what I'm talking about?"

"Of course. Not every day I dump a drink all over the pretty new girl and then proceed to have her rip me a new asshole in the middle of the hallway," he replied laughing as she blushed. "Anyway, I was only asking 'bout the clothes 'cause your skirts make my day a little bit brighter."

"Well, I wouldn't want you to be sad now would I?"

"Nope. A sad Puck is an unproductive Puck," Puck replied with a bright, hopeful, smile. "So, wanna find a closet and motivate me?"

Rachel rolled her eyes to reinforce the sarcastic tone she had been using with him, in case he wasn't as perceptive as she knew he was and wasn't just choosing to ignore her tone, "How's Lauren Noah?"

The answering grumble told Rachel all she needed to know about how what up and down relationship was going at the moment and she finally just favored him with a sympathetic smile and a pat on his arm.

"It'll get better. I'm sure you're wearing her down day by day."

"Like you and Finn?"

Rachel winced at the snap response and simply shook her head, "Finn and I are...how do I put this gently?"

"You can be rough with me baby."

"Noah!" Rachel groaned as he interrupted her, smacking his arm when all he did was laugh. "Finn and I are irrevocably over."

"Pretty sure you were irrevocably over when he left your ass in a Christmas Tree lot. Not my fault you only just figured this shit out," he replied, raising an eyebrow and then wincing when she smacked his arm again. "Stop hitting me woman!"

"Stop pretending to be an idiot and then using words like irrevocably correctly."

Puck simply smirked and shot her a wink, "Who said I wasn't just repeating it in the context you used it?"

"The smirk and then wink and the fact that you were in honors English freshmen year," Rachel pointed out, smirking right back when as he avoided her eyes. "Anyway, I have to go, my English class is upstairs."

"A'ight, see ya Berry," Puck waved as he pushed himself off the locker and headed down the hall. "Oh, Rachel?"

"Yes?" she asked with an exasperated sigh, almost knowing what was coming next.

"Seriously. The skirts? Hot."

"Have fun in class Noah," she called back and shook her head before continuing on towards her class, wondering how everyone else in the school believed her fellow junior to be some borderline brain-dead jock when she had just talked to him as he waited to enter an honors history class.

Catching her reflection in a glass door as she passed it, her jeans caught her attention, and one word (what seemed like her own personal theme for this this week) stuck in her mind - perception.

Rachel entered her classroom, and nodded a surprised hello in response to Santana's slight finger wave, before taking the same seat she had the day before and let her thoughts drift as she awaited her teacher's arrival. Perception is one of the strongest defenses (or weapons) available in the human mind's arsenal.

Rachel knew who she really was deep down; but she also knew how the school perceived her - arrogant, abrasive and borderline crazy.

Then there was Puck, who Rachel knew cleverly masked Noah - a funny, protective and very bright young man (how his teammates missed the classes he took, except for Math, Rachel had no idea). Though, she'd never claim, at this juncture, to truly_ know _him these were all fairly easy to make observations.

And as for the girl next to her, Rachel subtly studied the beautiful young woman next to her as she flipped through her English text and made more detailed notes in a book and frowned. She wasn't certain exactly what the "bitchy cheerleader" shell hid (as Santana had never masked her own intelligence), but if that wave as she entered the class meant anything Rachel had a feeling she was going to be finding out.

* * *

><p>After an annoyingly uneventful Glee practice that day (she was cooling down but she also wasn't forgetting that Nationals were in a few months) Rachel couldn't decide whether she had struck a nerve earlier that afternoon or Noah was really that intent on Lauren (and she refused to acknowledge how much she was hoping it was the former rather then the latter) because he hadn't spoken to anyone except the bespectacled replacement for Kurt.<p>

After that thought passed through Rachel's head she mentally slapped herself; Lauren was of course a contributing member to the club, not just a replacement for her friend.

And the more she reminded herself of this, the more certain Rachel was that she'd believe it.

"She's a reasonably decent singer and we need twelve people," she insisted to her reflection in her locker mirror. "She's just...a bit harsh," she added, settling on what seemed to be a suitable adjective, flinching as Lauren continued to berate Noah down the hall over something.

"She's a fucking bitch is what she is," Santana's voice interrupted Rachel's thoughts and had the shorter girl spinning to eye her warily. "I have no idea what Puck sees in her."

"I'm sure she's a nice person," Rachel insisted, frowning as the yelling continued. "Really, really deep down. Somewhere." The slightly skeptical tone Rachel adopted for her addendum pulled a surprised laugh from Santana. "Either way," Rachel added. "Noah could do with a girl who won't just fall all over him for once."

"You didn't," Santana pointed out and Rachel blushed. "Or did you? He told me he couldn't even get to second base."

"He didn't," Rachel quickly replied, shaking her head fiercely, not even questioning what a strange conversation this was to be having with the other girl. "But I still didn't exactly push him off, so to speak."

"I guess I can kind of see your point," Santana admitted as both girls studied the pseudo-couple down the hallway. "But, still...it's Puck. That is way too much hot to be with that much of a hot mess. And she's like, legit, mean to him. Not even like I was. He deserves way better."

"Like you were? I'm sorry, are there acceptable levels of mean?"

"Yes, and you're apparently good at them. Nice use of sarcasm," Santana responded with a slight smirk. "See, I was funny mean. Like, when you rag on your friends. She's just a bitch. I don't normally joke about abusive partners, but bitch is like toeing the line over there."

"Hmmm," Rachel mused, listening harder to the words Lauren was spewing at Noah as the two walked past her down the hall and towards the exit for the parking lot. "Is she yelling at him over M&Ms?"

"Yup. Like she needs any more candy." Rachel was quite proud of herself for not laughing at that comment (no matter how much she agreed with it). "And, he dated us!"

"So?"

"Puck sleeps around...but he barely dates. He dated me and he dated you. And we're, well, hot," she mumbled the last sentence and wrinkled her nose. "Okay, so I'm hot and you're not terribly unattractive."

"Thanks," Rachel drawled out, eliciting a eyebrow raise from the fiery brunette. "Okay, why are you being, sort of, nice to me?" she finally asked, after a few seconds of silence had passed.

"Cause of yesterday," Santana admitted. "And you're like the only person really talking to me at the moment."

"Oh."

"Also, do you understand the topics for our English paper?"

"We have to read and examine either a story from Edgar Allen Poe or three of his poems."

"Yes, I know that," Santana responded, hooking their arms and pulling Rachel away from her now closed locker as they two began to leave the school. "But I mean, do you understand Poe?"

"As much as anyone who isn't Poe can understand it. Sure."

"Good. Mind helping me?"

Rachel blinked in surprise at the uncertain tone the other girl used before nodding, "Of course I don't. The paper is due in two weeks, do you want to meet in the library after school tomorrow?"

"I can't tomorrow. My dad's having some of his surgical resident's over for dinner and I have to be there all shiny and smiley."

"Alright, day after?"

"That'll work," Santana replied as they exited the building. "Are you going to do a story or three poems?"

"I figured a story would be easier in the long run. Less imagery to sort through."

"Look at you, avoiding school work."

"Not hardly," Rachel admitted. "I'm going to do the Tell Tale Heart. That story is a mess and a half."

Santana laughed and nodded, "I'll look through our choices tonight and read what I pick that way we can get started on our papers when we meet."

Rachel glanced at the other girl after she spoke and took a (major) chance with what she was going to say, "You don't really need any help on this assignment do you? I mean, your grades are as good as mine are."

Santana frowned and shrugged, "Fine. Whatever. Don't help me."

"No. No," Rachel quickly insisted. "That wasn't what I meant. I'll still help you...but if you just wanted to work on it with someone. Or just, hang out and talk? That's okay too."

Santana exhaled and turned to face Rachel with a serious expression, "I'm only going to say this once midget. I don't have a lot of friends right now, and I know that's my own fault so thank you and I'm sorry."

Rachel ignored her surprise at the one-eighty the Latina had taken and examined in the other girl's expression, and very sincere tone and smiled back, "I talked to Britt the other day so you're welcome and you're, tentatively, forgiven."

"You did?" Santana asked, a nervous tone entering her normally assertive voice.

"Yea," Rachel replied, nodding, with a sad smile. "Things are rough right now...but she really cares about you Santana. However it works out, it'll take time. But I think it'll be okay in the long run."

"Yea, well, I don't know about that myself, but, you aren't that bad. Maybe she was right a long time ago."

"She told me about that too," Rachel admitted with a laugh, smirking when Santana actually winced. "We can't change the past San," she added softly.

"Nope," the taller girl admitted quietly. A few beats passed and the Latina shook her head, "Anyway, enough mush. I've gotta get home. I'll see you in class tomorrow Berry."

Rachel watched as the other girl hurried towards her car and felt like a weight was off her shoulders. She had done what Brittany had asked of her and had tentatively, maybe, possibly, gained the _beginnings_ of a friendship (she wasn't stupid and knew everything could change tomorrow morning). She had also in the process begun to show one of her main tormentors that there was more to Rachel then just a spotlight obsessed singer. There was also a caring girl who could be a very good friend.

As she climbed into her car, Rachel's gaze caught on a lone familiar figure sitting on the bleachers, and she felt her breath catch in her throat as Santana's words from the lockers come back to her.

"You do deserve better Noah," she mumbled to herself. "So much better. I just wish you would realize that."

And if in her subconscious she knew exactly who he deserved, well, that wasn't something even a newly balanced Rachel Berry was ready to admit to herself quite yet.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** First, apologies on the late update - my best friend and her boyfriend decided that turning 28 and 30 respectively means that they should pick up (giving their friends and family about 2 weeks notice) and move to Portland, Oregon. As such I've been spending every spare minute with a girl I've known since I was 5 before she moves completely across the country.

Now, I tend to develop characters through dialogue and observation and that's a very big part of my writing. There was a lot said, that was not "said" in the two character interactions I gave you in this chapter (and that's me believing my readers to be very intelligent perceptive beings).

A running theme to this story is very much the idea of "perception". How Rachel perceives herself, how others perceive Rachel and how Rachel perceive others. Santana and Puck are going to start to see more of the "real" Rachel as they both get to know her better (and differently of course) and she's going to get to see a lot of what they hide so well and they're going to teach her how to balance reality vs. image.

Before I get questions about Puck's classes - one of my favorite things about Glee (or at least now that I'm writing this story) is that we don't know what classes the kids take. Therefore, I get to base part of Puck (cause dude has never struck me as being 'stupid' unlike Finn. Also, he got way too insulted by Quinn's Lima Loser comment for someone who's actually half a moron) off this kid I went to H.S. with. He was in honor's classes with me...and his friends on the football team all expected him to never graduate cause he wasn't in a lot of classes with him (therefore, he must have been skipping). He perpetuated this idea by playing "dumb jock" and people bought it right up until graduation when he was #10 in our class ranking.

Any thoughts? I love hearing what you have to say and discussing things with my readers (and will always respond back to well thought out comments or criticisms).

Sidebar: ...they seriously need to figure this serial killer out (10 freaking sets of remains) 'cause being female, living on Long Island and being in my 20s is starting to freak me out. Especially since they've officially started looking for bodies in my county now too. Also, Ocean Parkway/Beaches are basically closed, which means if this goes into the summer our tourist income is going to go away.


	5. Chapter Four

**Disclaimer:** See Prologue.

* * *

><p>Despite Rachel's subconscious fear, Santana didn't suddenly return to her previous role of tormentor over the next two weeks. Admittedly they hadn't really done anything together other then work on the ten page paper that was worth a quarter of their semester grade.<p>

But despite that, Rachel had suddenly found herself with a new neighbor in Glee as Santana had taken to sitting next to Rachel at every meeting. The taller girl would say hello in the hallway or randomly stop by Rachel's locker for a few minutes in between periods if she was around. She had also verbally torn a strip off a Cheerio who had been harassing Rachel in the restroom when she walked in and witnessed it. To Rachel that moment had been the deciding factor.

Santana had somehow, over two weeks of simply hanging out in the library discussing imagery in literature, become her friend.

She had also, apparently, gained a stalker in Puck.

"What can I do for you _today_ Noah? I really don't have time for whatever random conversation you want to have this afternoon. I have to get to English early."

"Umm, so, I was wondering," he began slowly and Rachel's nerves ratcheted up because Noah Puckerman is never tentative about anything and for the last week he had been stopping by and started to ask her something, only to segue into various pointless observations over her clothes, school and on one occasion why she preferred grape over any other slushie.

"Yes?" she questioned, prodding him along into what she hoped was whatever he had been beating around the bush about.

"Are you and Santana dating or plotting world domination? Because that's the _only_ two things I can think of to explain the fact that you're being nice to each other."

Rachel blinked and opened her mouth to answer and found she couldn't. She finally took a few more seconds and managed to choke out, "What?" Puck simply shrugged and looked slightly sheepish but was still waiting for an answer. "Okay, ignoring the sheer ridiculousness of that assumption. Why do you even care?"

"Cause, I'd like to be involved in either one. Dating would be hot. World domination would be fun," he replied, smirking slightly and earning himself a smack on the back of the head from Santana who he hadn't noticed approaching.

"We aren't dating Puck," the taller girl snapped. "As for world domination. Well, I haven't broached the subject yet, so thanks for blowing up my spot, but I'm pretty sure if we tried hard enough we could."

"Well, there go my spank bank fantasies," he mumbled and tilted his head in thought smiling slightly. "Nope. They're still there. Hot."

"I hate you a little bit right now," Santana growled. "We're friends Puck. Friends. Sort of like you are. Oh wait! That's right...you let Hudson tell you who you can and can't be friends with," she added with a dirty look, ignoring the way Puck's face fell, before looping her arm with Rachel's, closing the shorter girl's locker door and dragging her off the class all the while muttering under her breath something that Rachel couldn't quite make out. Though, she was certain she heard the words 'blind idiots'.

"San?"

"Yea?"

"What was that all about?"

"We're friends Rach."

"No, I know that," Rachel admitted with a bright smile, matching her stride to the taller girl's. "I meant about Noah and Finn."

Santana exhaled loudly and shook her head, "It's a stupid long story that he told me last time we hung out. He was pretty wasted so it might be an exaggeration but, either way, I'll explain after school. We have to go turn these stupid papers in and fuck up the rest of the classes grade curve."

"Promise?"

"Mmmhmm," Santana agreed halfheartedly and actually looked a little nervous. "You're gonna be pissed off though."

"At you?"

"Nope. At tweedle dee and tweedle imbecile."

Rachel raised an eyebrow and chuckled, "Which one's which?"

"Puck's dee 'cause he's not quite as stupid."

"Ahhhhh," Rachel mumbled, having learned to understand Santana enough to realize that she said that with love, and then quieted down as their teacher called class to order.

* * *

><p>Rachel was gathering her books after school when Santana leaned against her locker and greeted her with a quiet, "Hey."<p>

"Hi. What's up?"

"Rachel Berry using contractions. I'm such a good influence," the other girl joked and then seemed to deflate.

"Alright. What's wrong?"

"Nothing really. I just ran into Artie and Brittany. It just sucks."

"Yea," Rachel agreed. "I saw Finn and Quinn a little while ago."

Santana wrinkled her nose and mocked gagging before shaking her head, "Fuck those two idiots. If Finn wants to be a lapdog then let him. I never understood why you let him walk all over you. You're a million times smarter then Quinn and could probably be just as devious if you really tried."

"Thanks. I think?"

"Totally a compliment."

Rachel chuckled and closed her locker before turning to face Santana and asked, "So, you were going to explain about earlier?"

"Oh yea. I was kind of hoping you forgot about that."

"Well, I didn't."

"Alright, alright. What are you doing now? Any lessons or anything?"

"No, I don't actually take as many as I used to," Rachel admitted. "It got to be a bit much between Glee and schoolwork. So I'm free today. Really just Thursday evenings, Sunday mornings and Monday afternoons. Then Glee Tuesday and Friday."

"Geeeeee, yea, you're not doing much."

"Santana. Focus."

"Right, focusing. Can we go to your house and hang out?"

This surprised Rachel more then she wanted the other girl to know so instead of fully reacting she just nodded quickly and gestured down the hallway towards the main door of the school. They walked in companionable silence for a few minutes until they reached the parking lot and that's when they both stopped short at what they saw a few feet away.

"I'm suddenly nauseous," Santana muttered, looking honestly disgusted and glancing towards Rachel who just shrugged. "That's it? You're just going to shrug."

"Noah's not going to listen to either of us Santana," she explained as they walked began walking towards their cars again trying not to overhear the conversation going on near Noah's truck. Though, it was incredibly hard not to when they were both parked only a few spots away from him. "At least she's not yelling at him this time."

"No, she's just making fun of him," the Latina growled back, looking honestly livid. "She's making fun of him for taking honors classes. She's in AV Club. She's a geek without the really good grades. At least Puck's smart...ish."

Rachel laughed at the statement and nodded her agreement as they stopped at Santana's car, "He is smart. He just doesn't want anyone to know that and you know he applies only the bare minimum of work as a result."

"Yea, well, he's fucking lucky," Santana snapped and then closed her eyes and took a deep breath as though to calm herself. "Do you have any idea how close he was to getting expelled at the beginning of the year with that fucking stunt he pulled? If he hadn't been in those honors classes with a semi-decent GPA Figgins would have tossed him out on his ass. As it was he still needed Artie to help him bring up his grades even higher."

Rachel stared back in shock, because she hadn't know that little fact, "I thought Noah had a high B average?"

"Apparently he needed to bring it up to at least an A in a few of his classes or they were gonna just toss him. He's been on the brink for his behavior since we were in junior high. The only saving grace has been his grades. I'm pretty sure that's the only reason he even bothers at all in school. He doesn't wanna be a high school drop out."

"Why do you know all this? Anytime I've tried to bring up school, specifically math, with him he brushes it off. He says it's not my business."

"Puck's my boy," she said as though that explained everything. "Like, we screwed no strings and all that shit and we dated or whatever that was last year but above all that we've been friends since we were six. His Mom's a nurse in the ER where my Dad works."

"Oh," Rachel mumbled, slightly upset by the fact that Puck wouldn't share things like that with her, but glad at least someone knew and apparently cared about his real situation.

"Yup. I know lotsa stuff bout Noahhhh," Santana teased and then smirked when Rachel blushed slightly. "Okay bitch. I'll meet you at your house. If I have to listen to that crazy bitch keep ragging on him much longer I'ma go Lima Heights on her ass."

"Cause that worked out _so well_ for you last time."

"I woulda flipped that script. I just got interrupted," she replied haughtily.

"Sure you did San. _Sure you did_."

"Oh shut-up. I'll see you back at the ranch Midget."

Rachel rolled her eyes and headed for her own car as Santana climbed in and started hers, driving off. She caught Noah's eye just before she got into her own car and smiled at him only to recieve a slightly embarassed look in response before he turned his attention back to Lauren.

"I will never understand that boy fully," she mumbled, climbing in and driving out of the parking lot towards her home.

* * *

><p>Two hours later, after Santana had tried distracting Rachel with snacks, homework and a potential duet for them to do in Glee, Rachel was staring at her new friend in shock.<p>

"Finn made Noah promise what? And he agreed?"

"I _told_ you you'd be pissed," Santana replied around a mouthful of red vines. She quickly swallowed and added, "But I think it's safe to say Puck's been ignoring the whole "stay away from Rachel" thing. Besides, I _thought_ you'd decided Finn wasn't worth it. What does it matter what he did now?"

"That's entirely besides the point," Rachel replied, deciding against informing her friend that part of her was still very much in love with her ex no matter how stupid she acknowledged it was. It wasn't a feeling you could just turn off like a light switch. "Finn knows I have a hard time making friends and Noah's probably one of the best ones I have."

Santana shrugged and then smiled softly, "Puck's crazy for your crazy Rach. He's not gonna just, literally start ignoring you 'cause of what Finn made him promise."

"Oh now you're just being ridiculous."

"How am I being ridiculous. The boy tracked you down _daily_ for a year and a half to throw slushies at you. If he didn't ignore you_ then_ he's not gonna ignore you _now_ that he actually knows you."

"Cause I was a geek," Rachel protested.

"Cause he wanted to keep anyone else from dating you," she argued. "We established he's smart; but he's _still a boy_. Kindergarten mentality Rachel. I told you, he's my boy, I know things..._and_ he talks in his sleep. Why do you think I was so vicious for a while there; just unlike Quinn I didn't go and fuck someone else's boyfriend and get knocked up."

"_Santana!_" Rachel gasped, though she felt a pang of compassion for her friend as she realized something that no one ever seemed to acknowledge, Santana and Puck had actually been dating when Quinn got pregnant. And considering neither of them were known to actually 'date'and happened to be friends, that relationship had to have meant something at the time to the girl.

"Fine. Okay, let's say I'm wrong and you just choose to ignore me and my good friend named logic. Either way, you know he _at the very least_ considers you a friend. That he _cares_ about you at the basest sense of the word. He isn't going to just start ignoring you 'cause now you know about his stupid "promise", he hasn't done so yet has he?"

"Not really."

"What do you mean 'not really'?"

"Well, until this week when he was apparently trying to figure out if we were dating, he used to talk to me more; you know, before the football game," she admitted. "I just figured he was focused on his relationship with Lauren."

Santana frowned and took another bite of candy, chewing thoughtfully before shaking her head, "Nope. He still bitches about Finn when he's stoned. That's how I found out about the stupid ass promise in the first place. We got super baked and he started babbling about how shitty Finn had treated you in the break up and then he told me that Finn made him promise to stay away from you."

"Did Finn actually say he couldn't be friends with me?"

"Well, I'm only going by what Puck _told_ me. But _Puck said_ that Finn said he couldn't date you and had to stay away from you. If Finn _actually_ phrased it like that, I have no idea."

Rachel raised an eyebrow and repeated it, "He can't _date_ me?"

"Apparently. Now in my perfect world that's the only explanation for Zizes F-Y-I," Santana stated matter of factly.

Rachel found herself rolling her eyes and laughing again at her friend and couldn't help but notice how much more relaxed and, to put it in it's most simplest terms, young, Santana seemed outside of McKinley. Seeing the former cheerleader out of the high school she finally came across as a normal sixteen year old girl, laying on her friends bed, eating candy and gossiping over silly theories regarding her friends love lives.

"You're _a lot_ different then I expected," Rachel interjected into the conversation and laughed again when Santana's head popped up and looked over at where Rachel had been sitting at her desk, scrolling through her iTunes.

"Ditto," the girl replied and dropped her head back down. "Rach?"

"Yea?"

"Are you mad at me for sleeping with Finn?"

The question came out in such a vulnerable tone that Rachel immediately felt badly for how she had initially reacted to Santana's confession months ago; despite the fact that she knew, at the time, it hadn't been meant in any way other then to be mean. She took a few seconds to consider it and finally shook her head.

"I wasn't _ever_ really angry with _you_ over it, though I would have preferred to be told in private even if you did just want to drag me down at the time. Finn kept fixating on the fact that I was angry over him having sex with _you_. And while I didn't love said revelation; I was more angry over the fact that he _lied_. Especially when I found out that everyone else knew and no one thought I should know. They all just protect Finn _all the time_. No one seemed to consider that I'd get hurt worse by the lie then the truth; if they even cared. I mean, I told him the truth about me and Jesse and he just told me _again_ that he was a virgin. He wanted to come across as the good guy who kept himself "pure" for me I guess. And in _hindsight_ the lie becomes even worse, because it isn't fair to you either."

"I actually understood that babble," Santana replied in a soft tone and blinking rapidly. "And honestly Rachel? I had two reasons for telling you."

"You did?"

"Yea, I mean, back then I didn't mind if something was going to hurt you; _but_, I also knew that it'd be unforgivable if you slept with him thinking he was a virgin. I actually didn't know that you didn't know until a few days earlier, so, I told you in the shittiest way possible. There's something truly fucked up about what he was doing with that lie. I didn't care about him denying me so much, no matter what I said; but, as much as I was convinced I hated you, that's still wrong to do to a girl."

Rachel took in her friend's explanation and stood up from her chair and crossed to her bed, sitting down next to Santana before speaking, "I'm going to hug you now."

"Okay?"

Rachel quickly pulled the other girl into a tight squeeze and whispered, because sometimes it's the quiet words that get through easiest rather then the shouted ones, quietly into her ear, "You're a really good person. I'm sorry it took so long for me to see that."

"Ditto," Santana replied, squeezing back before pulling away. "Alright, we really need a subject change before we become _total_ girls. So, what's been up with the outfits?"

Rachel shrugged in confusion, accepting the topic change because she knew Santana wasn't the hug-it-out type, "I thought I'd try something different. You were the one who said I dressed weird."

"I never thought your skirts were weird. Your legs are fucking hot."

"Thanks," Rachel replied dryly, lightly shoving the other girl's shoulder.

"You're totally welcome," Santana responded, blowing a kiss. "No, but seriously, your skirts were fine. They were very _you_. It was the fucked up sweaters I had a problem with. You should also know I haven't been being nice to you 'cause you suddenly changed up your wardrobe. If you actually want to start wearing owls and kitties and whatever else you totally can. I won't go back to being a bitch. Believe me, the slightly ratcheted down personality is more then enough. It was _not_ the clothing."

"I know that," Rachel replied, though inside it was nice to hear a confirmation of this; though she debated whether she should tell Santana that she hadn't so much changed her personality as dropped her in school mask. She had a feeling she didn't need to considering how different Santana had been the last two weeks when they were alone.

"It's cause you're the only person other then Puck who actually gave a shit and asked what was wrong," Santana continued, even though Rachel hadn't asked for an explanation.

"Does he know?" Rachel asked, not even bothering to state what she meant.

"About me and Britt? He knows for a fact we fool around; hell, he was there once or twice but I don't think you really wanna know about that. The rest? I think he figured that out on his own."

"Thank you for sparing me the details," Rachel replied her nose wrinkled slightly in fake disgust, pulling a laugh from the taller girl. "And why do you think he figured it out?"

"He gave me a big hug the other day and told me that I could find a better girl and that while he couldn't kick Britt's ass for breaking my heart 'cause she's a, and I quote, itty bitty chick, he would kick anyone else's ass if they gave me any shit."

Rachel smirked, "That sounds like Noah."

"He also threatened me if I was fucking with you for a joke and then told me you better _not_ be the better girl. I told him that I wouldn't do that to him, 'cause unlike him and Hudson we don't fight over chicks," Santana continued, again with that same teasing note from earlier.

Rachel turned slowly and looked over at her friend in surprise because not one other person had questioned or been concerned over why she'd been hanging out with Santana (she didn't like to think about the implications that no one except Puck apparently cared that her one time tormentor might be playing her for a joke and chose to ignore more blatent implications that Puck might have feelings for her), "Really?"

"Yep. I told you! He's crazy for your crazy. You two are just blind and dumb to it. Anyway, enough about boys. Boys suck."

"I thought you batted for both teams?" Rachel joked and wasn't the least bit surprised when Santana flipped her off.

"Fine, boys_ and_ girls suck. Let me at your closet," Santana elaborated and climbed off the bed heading over to Rachel's small walk in closet.

"Why?" Rachel questioned, following her and standing outside as Santana began going through the two sides of the closet.

"Because, you need to dress like you."

"This is me!"

"No, that," she explained, gesturing at the outfit Rachel was wearing. "Is what you _think_ you should be. Now, if we could find a happy medium between unfashionable animal sweater wearing fake-Rachel and super relaxed cool fake-Rachel we will succeed in finding my awesome friend Rachel Berry."

"Okay?" Rachel squeaked out, trying not to show how excited she was at how easy Santana was accepting their new friendship. The taller girl hadn't ignored their problems at all; but was actively choosing to move past them while doing her best to fix past mistakes.

She watched as Santana examined a few pieces of clothing before handing over a dark denim skirt and her black long sleeved LOVE shirt, "Here. Wear these tomorrow, no knee socks or tights. Wear hose and either those fabulous black boots in the back of the closet that I can't believe I've never seen you wear before or a pair of low heels."

"You think?"

"Yes. Perfect mix. And like I said, your legs are hot. Work whatcha got. Besides, it's not the clothes, it's _how_ you wear them that make or break you. You've got the confidence, you just need to stamp down the over the top in your face thing you've been doing the last few years."

"Fine. I'll take your word for it," Rachel replied, still amazed at the fact that someone she thought she once hated could apparently read her so well. She was starting to think, based on how they had interacted the last two weeks, that half their problems came from having fairly similar personalities. They both knew what they wanted and went after it by putting up a strong front and really underneath were just two smart, driven but vulnerable girls.

"Good. Now I need to get home for dinner. My Dad's on third shift this week and I promised I'd eat with him and my Mom before he leaves for the hospital. You sure you don't want to come? They won't mind." She questioned, repeating the dinner invitation she had given when they got to Rachel's and she realized her Dad's were away on business trips.

"I'm good. I'm just going to finish my homework, take a shower and go to sleep."

"Alright," Santana agreed, grabbing her stuff. "Seriously though Rachel. If your Dad's are out of town this much you're totally welcome at our place. I understand having a parent who's busy with work, having two that were busy all the time would suck. My Mom's at home pretty twenty-four seven. All the woman does is cook."

"Your Mom's a psychiatrist."

"Yea, but she works from home. If she doesn't have a patient _then_ all she does is cook."

"What happened to Lima Heights?"

"This shit is between you, me and the walls. Keep it quiet," the taller girl joked back, since everyone in the school knew Santana Lopez lived in one of the nicest neighborhoods in Lima being that her parent's were both successful doctors.

Rachel waved as Santana hurried out of her room and down the stairs, she glanced out the window once and watched as her friend pulled out the driveway and drove down the block towards her own home. Once she could no longer see the car Rachel dropped onto her window seat and frowned as Santana's teasing words from earlier started running through her head.

There was _no way_ Noah Puckerman had feelings of any sort, other then friendship, for her. _Right?_

Shaking the ridiculous thoughts, and the feelings they produced in her, off she smiled as she eyed the clothes Santana had selected for her to wear tomorrow. Carefully folding them she set them on her dresser and decided the other girl was very correct, it wasn't the clothes that made or broke her it was how she wore them. And Rachel Berry did nothing without confidence; she just needed to find the confidence to show her real self.

"New day, new attitude. You're just Rachel," she whispered to her reflection. "You're a musician, a songwriter, a singer, a daughter, and Santana Lopez's friend. And that's perfectly okay."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I feel like throwing a party 'cause now, finally, I can get into the bulk of the story. Puck will finally be able to play more a role now that I've gotten Rachel and Santana's friendship up off the ground (and a certain ex-cheerleader seems to want her friends happy together and everyone knows what Santana Lopez wants she gets); now I can work on moving Puck into the equation. I'm pretty much ignoring most of the rest of Season 2 post-Regionals (quite obviously due to Pezberry friendship) - BUT, I will say that a few things that happened during those episodes will show up in this story. I bet you can all at least guess one of them.

I need to apologize for the really really late update - life at home has been sucky; combine that with a bit of writers block (which I tried to combat with one-shots but only seemed to break last night when I forced myself to sit in the basement with my laptop, cigarettes and a bottle of wine) and you've got a much later update then planned. I'm going to try my hardest not to let this happen again especially now that I can really get more into how Puck and Santana's friendship (and more with Puck if Santana has anything to say about it) helps Rachel really come into herself.


End file.
